


To Love and to Cherish

by Gabriel_Sage



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Bachelor Party, F/M, Forced Marriage, M/M, Mind Control, Multi, One-Sided Attraction, One-Sided Relationship, Wedding Planning, Wedding Rings, Weddings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-09
Updated: 2018-04-08
Packaged: 2018-12-13 08:04:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,316
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11755545
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gabriel_Sage/pseuds/Gabriel_Sage
Summary: "I, take thee, to be my wedded wife, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death do us part; and thereto I pledge myself to you."The words most males spend their adult lives either hoping to say one day, or remembering with avid happiness the day they said them. But with a little help from the Mad Hatter, Harley succeeded in holding the Joker’s very will hostage in exchange for tying the knot. The thing was, the Jokerreallydid not want to marry her, but it seemed he would have no choice. Well, at least Batman agreed to be his best man...





	1. To Have and to Hold

     He came to with aching limbs and a _pounding_ headache. Not that he wasn't used to waking up with one, but it irritated him solely because he knew it wasn't Batsy who'd given it to him. He began to reflect back upon his last moments conscious. _Who did this?_

     "Wakey wakey, Mistah J!"  _And another mystery is solved,_ he thought sardonically as he opened his eyes. He squinted for a moment, as his eyes slowly adjusted to the light.

     "Ah, Harley. What a _surprise,_ " he stated dryly in the general direction he'd heard her, and then discovered the next hiccup in this formerly wonderful evening.

     He was tied to a chair. To a fucking _chair_. By _Harley_. And he was bound too tightly to wriggle free, he could tell that without even having to twitch a muscle. He finally looked up, and discovered yet another snag. Next to Harley, whose hands were clasped at the small of her back, stood nervously the Mad Hatter. _Well, at least he was smart enough to be afraid._

     "Hatter, I swear, if this is another scheme where you want to dye my hair blonde and shove me in a dress, I’ll-"

     "No silly," Harley giggled, interrupting him, "it’s _me_ who planned this! We're going to get married, Puddin'!" She announced, bouncing on her heels. Wait… _what?_ Thrown for yet another loop, he frowned.

     "No we’re aren't," he asserted. Didn't she remember the disaster the _last_ attempt was? Besides, he didn't even _like_ her! Why couldn't she get the hint already!

     "And why not?" Harley whined.

     "Because I don't _want_ to be married!" He yelped. "I have no desire at all to be tied to a woman for life, much less have that woman be _you!"_  Something visibly shifted, steely resolve bleeding into every feature even as she smiled sweetly. It was a look that reminded him all too well that despite her bubbly self, she had still once been an _Arkham_ Psychiatrist. And that just wasn't something that _went away_.

     "I was concerned that you would say that. So that’s why I got Jervis in on it! He’s never one to say no to love!" She brought her hands out in front of her, and the Joker paled as much as he ever could as he caught sight of the headband entwined in her fingers. He swallowed, reflexively leaning away.

     "Fine. I’ll marry you, on _one_ condition."

     "Name it Puddin'!" She declared, clapping her hands.

     "Batsy’s got to be my best man." Her face fell.

     "But– _why?"_  She wailed. "He’ll ruin the day!"

     "Harley," he hissed. "He’s my best friend. There’s no one else I’d rather give that honor to!"

 _"Fine!"_  Harley snapped, and backed away for a moment. She stuffed the headband in her pocket, but moments later fished out what appeared to be a single metal handcuff.

     "Here we go!" She chirped, good mood suspiciously restored, and snapped it around his wrist.

     "I suppose this isn't just decorative then?" He mused, scrutinizing it, and she beamed at him.

     "Ooh, I just love how sharp you are! It's got a tracer on it, and should you go somewhere you ought not or try to escape, I can flip a switch and it’ll shock you until I can get there to put on the headband! Wanna try it out?" Her voice dropped into a sultry tone, and he swallowed.

     "You know, I think I’ll pass," he quickly responded.

     "Fine then. I get it. You get enough electricity through that brainy noggin of yours at Arkham. It's our anniversary in three weeks, and what better day to get hitched? But there's so much to do, we'll need to start planning right away! It’s nearly daylight now, so you’ll have to go find the bat tomorrow night, tell him the news!" She pulled a knife out from who knows where, and brandished it as she stepped right up to him. With one sweep, she sliced through the ropes binding each leg, then his arms. Yet, when he stood, he found that he’d felt freer tied to the chair.


	2. From This day Forward

     It took Batman until nearly daybreak to find the Joker, who happened to be very uncharacteristically doing little else besides sitting slightly hunched on the edge of a rooftop. He landed with a soft thump behind him, and the clown straightened instantly before springing to his feet.

 _"Batsy!"_  The Joker grinned with open arms. "So _glad_  you could make it!"

     "Indeed," Batman growled testily. "Field trip's over; you're going back to Arkham."

     "Nah ah ah," the Joker singsonged, waggling his finger. "Unfortunately for _you_ , I’ve got more important things to do, and going back right now will make me lose a _lot_ more than I want to." Then his grin grew for a moment, before returning to the state it was before, which was what brought Batman's attention to something peculiar. At a first glance, the Joker had seemed to be up to his old tricks, but now he couldn’t help but notice there was something _off_  about him this early morning, as if the maniacal enthusiasm and energy didn’t quite fit him as the second skin it usually did, creating a slightly awkward atmosphere. It was almost like he was simply going through the motions; like he was hiding behind a _facade_. "So Bats," the clown drawled, "I've got a _proposal_ for you." Batman's eyes narrowed.

     "What is it?" And then in a move that caught him completely off guard, the Joker suddenly lunged forward, and he was knocked off his feet. The other landed on top, and Batman tensed, preparing to throw the lunatic off and punch him full in the face.

     "I need you to go shopping with me, Batsy," the Joker rushed, peering wide-eyed directly down into his face. From this close, Batman could see his suspicions had been correct. Something was lurking deep in the Joker's eyes, something half-hidden behind the madness, something he’d almost say looked like hopeless frustration.

     "What for?" He questioned warily, and decided to simply shove the thinner man off of him without following through with violence. It wasn't shaping up to be necessary. The Joker stared dubiously at him, sprawled on the ground across from him.

     "That’s a _secret_ ,” he stressed, before cracking a grin. "Don’t worry, it’s _completely_ legal!" Then the Joker leaned closer, cupping his lower face in the guise of rubbing the bridge of his nose, and mouthed the rest. _I’ve got information for you, that I can’t tell you with the guards following me so closely._

 _Guards?_  Batman returned, conveyed through a slight narrowing of his eyes, and the Joker nodded once quickly, then let out an almost unnoticeably half-hearted cackle.

     "So, are you coming? _Please?"_  Batman actually found himself considering it. There was something going on that the Joker was privy to, something he couldn't just spill in the open without consequences. It was very likely the clown himself wasn’t in favor of it at all, whatever it was, if the covered-up despair and the allusion to guards were anything to go by. This would give him a chance to find out what it was. And he _did_ say please. The trade-off? He’d be out in daylight. But when weighed against something that could cause even the _Joker_ to be desperate to escape, then that was _nothing_.

     "Fine," he conceded shortly, and the Joker jumped up, grinning widely.

     " _Yes!_ I _knew_  you’d agree!" He danced victoriously, the happiness completely genuine for the moment. But when it died down again, the mask fell right back in place. "Now come on, our _escorts_ are waiting for us."

     Out of the shadows, two men appeared. Batman found himself surprised that he hadn’t noticed them earlier. Upon reaching ground level, they were not so much ushered as they were shoved inside the vehicle, before the guards sat on either side of them, closest to the doors. Batman found himself crammed uncomfortably against the Joker, but there was no fixing that, as the doors were then closed, further pressing them together. The moment the doors were locked, the chauffeur started the engine and they were off.

* * *

     Several minutes of uncomfortable silence passed where everyone just kept exchanging glances; the guards smugly amused, the Joker _quite_ disgruntled, the chauffeur occasionally glancing back in the rear-view mirror, and Batman just being Batman.

     "So, what are you shopping for?" Batman finally asked, and he caught it again, the slight grimace on the stark white face mere inches from his own before the Joker could mask it.

     "Oh, you’ll find out soon," he responded darkly. And sure enough, the car pulled over to the curb and stopped.

     "You have arrived at your first destination. Miss Harley says she will be wearing red and black."

     "Got it," the Joker stated far less than enthusiastically. Upon clambering out, Batman immediately saw the shop they'd stopped in front of.

     "You’ve _got_ to be kidding me," Batman groaned.


	3. For Better

     "I’m getting married, Batsy! Isn’t that great?" The Joker exclaimed, but there rang that hidden note of despair again.

     "You want to get married again? Even after I stopped the last attempt?" He queried, as they headed towards the building.

     "Sure! This time though, I’m having you shop with me and you’re invited, so you _don’t_ crash it. I was going to last time, but I couldn’t get hold of– _no!_ You two are staying outside!" The Joker suddenly growled, stopping the two guards in their tracks.

     "But Harl-"

     "Screw that!" He hissed. "You have the tracker, you’ll know I haven’t left. Besides, I want my suit to be a surprise!" Then he muttered under his breath, "as much of a surprise as someone in a tux can be, at any rate." For a moment, the guards and the Joker stared at each other, before the stockier one on the left finally spoke.

     "If you run, we’re calling Harley."

     "Fine by me!" The Joker threw his hands in the air exasperatedly. "C’mon bats, before they change their minds!" The Joker grumped, grabbing his arm and tugging him into the building.

     Inside the doors, it was like stepping into another dimension. Cool air enveloped them, as did the scent of cleaner and the dry dust of fabric. A song that could only be described as elevator music played in the background. In summation, it was a place he was accustomed to being in, but he felt mildly out of place in his own skin, because he didn’t frequent places like this as Batman. A _click_ caught their attention, and they turned to stare at the source. The woman at the front counter had frozen, her pen falling from nerveless fingers as she took in the pair of them.

     "H-how may I be of service to the two of you today?" She stumbled over her words.

     "We need several suits," Batman growled.

     "Seven, to be exact," the Joker piped up.

     "You two a-are partners after all?" She stammered, glancing back and forth.

     "I wish," the Joker muttered with a roll of his eyes, before shaking his head. "Nope. Batsy here’s just escorting me!" She leapt back comically as they made to pass her, to enter the shop proper beyond. The Joker’s eyes swept nonchalantly over the multitude of racks, before simply shrugging and heading over to the nearest one, full of black suits. He grabbed one at random, only glancing at it long enough to confirm the size, before taking it to the back. The Joker snapped the door to the fitting room stall shut behind him, and Batman leaned against the nearby wall. Less than a minute to pick the first tuxedo. Perhaps this wouldn’t take as long as he’d feared. He’d always thought the Joker was exceptionally vain, but it _this_ was how he did all his shopping...well, it certainly explained the odd color combinations. But something still wasn’t adding up. One would think that _this_ of all things would register higher up on the Joker’s radar for style. Well, there was no better way to learn what was going on than to ask.

     "You don’t seem very enthusiastic about this wedding," Batman spoke noncommittally.

     "And why should I be?" Was the hissed and completely unexpected response. "I have no desire to marry Harley, but as she’s teamed up with Hatter, the only other option is her sticking a permanent version of the mind control device on me that’ll destroy my free will for good!" Batman stiffened. Well, _that_  explained _everything_.

     "That’s low," Batman snarled. "You ought to be able to choose for yourself."

     "Oh, I am!" The Joker spat bitterly from behind his partition. "I’m choosing to be hitched and come out the other side unzombified!"

     "Wait…" Batman’s eyebrows furrowed in contemplation. "Don’t you have to be of sound mind to get married?" He queried, but didn’t get a response as the Joker came out at that moment.

     "How do I look?" _Not much like usual_ , Batman had to admit, his lips thinning slightly as he scrutinized the sight before him. A black and white suit rather than variegated neon shades went a long way to making him look less demented. But in regards to fitting, it was a complete failure. The legs and arms were too short and it was too baggy in the shoulders as well, skewing the entire outfit. In the end, he looked far less dangerous than usually did.

     "Dashing," he stated dryly, and the Joker sniggered.

     "Thank you, darling. Though I think I’d like to try on a white one, judging by the colors Harley's chosen. _Anything_ but purple."

     "Why not?"

     "A small rebellion, of course!" The Joker retreated back into the changing room. "And Batsy, I’m sane." He finally addressed his earlier question. "I'm more than sane, actually. The reason I'm at a mental hospital at all is due to the fact that I'm so sane my senses apparently don't work like everyone else's do, which means I need to be _sheltered_ ," the Joker snorted. "Apparently they’ve proclaimed me the next step in evolution, and the only thing keeping them from trying to breed the next generation is the fact that I’ll kill anyone who tries, and then any possible clone babies. _And_  no one wants to think about miniature versions of me running amok in Gotham, with the notable exception of Harley herself. But as for _her_ sanity?" He gave a little laugh, bitterly, as he stepped back out in what must have been the fastest wardrobe change he’d ever witnessed. Any Broadway actor would have been green with envy. "She _worked_ at Arkham. She knows better than most how to cheat the exam. She’s prescribed with obsessiveness, not insanity. Few people in a mental hospital ever actually _are_."

     "Isn't there _something_ I can do?" The Joker sighed, as he went back to the racks and actually browsed through them properly this time.

     "Can you be my best man? You're my best friend." Batman stilled for a moment. Why _him?_  Why not someone else? And then it dawned on him; he was probably the only one the Joker could assure would be on his side throughout this. Almost anyone else would think that he’d had it coming to him, the way he'd in the past strung her along. Slowly, he exhaled.

     "Fine. But I'm still going to try and get you out of it." The Joker shook his head, as he pulled out another suit, this one made more like his normal ones but in white with red interior lining.

     "Try your heart out Bats; but I'm pretty sure I'm beyond help this time. I invited you along in the first place to ask you that question, because the best man helps the groom with shopping, moral support, and a few other things." He stated monotonically, as he snapped shut the door to the dressing room. “I don't need rescuing. I just need company." The wait once again wasn’t that long, and when he came out this time, it had worse wardrobe malfunctions than the last suit thanks to the pants needing to be held up by the Joker’s hands _as well_ as all the previous problems. But the colors looked nice, at least.

     "That’s absolutely hideous," he grumbled. The Joker huffed.

     "It is _now_ , but ignore the fact that it doesn’t fit. Do the colors go well? Do they match my skin tone?" He struck a pose, then quickly grabbed the waistband of the pants again before they could fall. Batman rolled his eyes.

     "Surprisingly well, actually," he remarked. "I didn’t think you’d be able to pull off white, with your skin tone the shade it is."

     "I didn’t think so either!" The Joker grinned. "I like it though, possibly even better than purple. Imagine it Bats, you're trying to find me in winter, and I suddenly burst out of a snowdrift, previously unseen!" And then his face fell, and he headed back into the dressing room with a glance towards the store at large. Understanding the unasked question, Batman headed back to the racks, managing to find the same suit twice, one a size larger, and one two sizes larger just in case. He slung them over the door, and they were quickly tugged to the Joker’s side.

     It didn’t take long for him to come back out, this time having strung his tie through the belt loops to hold the pants up. "Well?" The Joker spread his arms out to the sides, and tilted his head. It was the right length, but it swamped him everywhere else. Batman couldn’t help the snort that escaped, earning a surprised look from the Joker.

     "You actually _laughed?"_ He exclaimed, lighting up again. "Why do I have to look like a dumpy tent to make you laugh?" He pouted, before returning to the stall to change back into his normal clothing, which once again took next to no time at all. "I’m getting this one." Batman watched in slight interest as the Joker removed a piece of paper from his breast pocket, and began checking out the other white suits. After a moment, he yanked one out, referring to the sheet.

     "Here, Batsy, hold these." Batman obediently held out his arms, and the Joker began draping several suits of the particular style he’d just found over them. These suits looked similar to the Joker’s on the bottom of the pile, but with red on the lapels, and red shirts with a white vest, and white interior lining; except for the one which had an inverted color format to the others. He folded it in half, and laid it on top of one of the white ones, then nodded sharply. Three guesses on who that was going to go to. That task completed, the clown lifted them all out of his hands and dropped them on the front counter. Then he turned to Batman, and grinned.

  _"Your_  turn!" Batman stiffened.

     "I'd rather not," He said hurriedly. The Joker’s eyes grew, hurt shining in them.

     "You’d appear at my wedding dressed like _that?"_ He gasped.

     "I thought you _liked_ me dressed like this," he quickly defended.

     "Yeah, well, this is my _wedding_. Willing or not, it's still a very important milestone!"

     "Fine," Batman quickly amended, holding his hands up in surrender before the Joker blew his top. "But I _will_ be making adjustments to it on my own," Batman warned as he let the Joker drag him back to the racks.

     "Fine by me," the Joker shrugged, then scrutinized one of the suits, his flicking back and forth between him and the rack. "Say, what size are you?"

     "I am not going to wear what you are," Batman growled. "I’d look fat." The Joker snickered.

     "Fine, I get it; you’re a mesomorph instead of an ectomorph; you’re going to need one of those athletic-style jackets with one button." He perused through the suits, before grinning, while Batman blinked in confusion. Probably best not to ask.

     "Aha!" The Joker whipped it out, held it up, then looked back and forth. "This looks about your size. But just to be on the safe side…" he pulled out two more, one smaller and one larger. Then he dumped them in his arms and hopped onto the chair outside the dressing room that he'd refused to sit on earlier. "My turn to critique!"

     Reluctantly, Batman entered the fitting room, and tried on the one the Joker had pulled out first. It was...alright. It was almost identical to the one the clown had chosen to wear, but with one button rather than three, and red lapels. He slipped the white shirt on. He’d likely wear Kevlar under it all, the day of. The red vest went on next. The white pants after that, anf then the white and red jacket. It was weird, wearing tails, and especially wearing color. Then came the bow tie. He frowned. They _really_ weren’t his thing. He put it on anyway, then looked in the mirror. Despite the obvious places where the suit didn’t quite fit, it was an extremely accurate estimate on size. It was something that really made him stop and consider the fact that the Joker apparently knew his body size better than he knew his own.

     It was also rather disconcerting, being this exposed. If this had all just been some hoax, the Joker could easily gut him the moment he stepped out of the dressing room. But then, that wouldn’t make much sense. The Joker had come up with some elaborate schemes in the past before, but there was only so much emotion one could fake. And the emotions he'd taken note of, the Joker had definitely been trying to cover up. So decision made, he stepped out, and was glad he had, because the next moments were priceless. He in fact nearly smirked when the Joker’s eyes grew round, and his mouth fell open slightly as he straightened up. Several order forms scattered across the ground. It actually made it worth losing the Batsuit to see the usually in-control clown lose his composure.

     "You’re like candy for the eyes," he gushed, and the moment inexplicably bled away in the blink of an eye. Batman sighed. Perhaps it was because the Joker had started speaking?

     "So, it fits. We match. And you think it looks nice. Mission accomplished." He stated in clipped words, then turned back to the fitting room. Fortunately, he had already turned away, so when the Joker wolf-whistled, he didn’t see the slight flush spread across his face.

     "And by the way," the Joker then called, "your tie’s crooked!" Batman quickly changed back, then exited. "Give me one of those," he growled snippily, and snagged one of the forms and the spare pencil the Joker had for some reason tucked behind his ear. He quickly filled it out, and moments later, the Joker finished as well, folding up a sheet of paper and tucking it back in his breast pocket.

     "You must be very used to buying suits," the Joker observed, "if you can write down the sizes from memory."

     "You can too," Batman pointed out. "I don’t know why you bothered trying them on."

     "To see if they’d look good!" The Joker exclaimed. "Certainly they swamp me and make me look nearly emaciated in their unaltered state, but at least I can check colors and style. It may not seem like it, but I have a rather difficult color palette to work around. And things _always_ look different on the hangers."

     Once again at the front of the store, the Joker danced between the suits now laid out on the counter during their absence thanks to the petrified shopkeeper, pinning the order forms to the front of each, though only one to the inverted tux and white one. "I’ll pay extra for this to be completed quickly," he spoke as he stared the cashier down and pulled out a wad of money. She shakily took it.

     "With an order this size, it will be done in two weeks," she replied faintly. The Joker sent Batman a meaningful look as they headed for the exit. Then he grinned, though his heart didn’t seem to be in it anymore.

     "Now that the clothing part is over, I need to pick out an engagement and wedding rings."

     "You haven’t given her an engagement ring yet?" Batman inquired, surprised, holding the door open for the clown. The Joker sent him a sidelong glare as he passed by.

     "Of course not! Not formally, at least. An onion ring is currently doing the job though." The Joker chuckled and glanced at the shorter guard to his right, who crossed his arms.

     "Hurry up and get in," he growled.

     "Hey, I’m working on it!" The Joker threw his hands up, and making a face at him, climbed in. Batman followed suit. Evidently, the Joker was trying to make it seem as though he hadn’t told him he was being forced into this. Catching on, Batman frowned.

     "That’s extremely irresponsible of you. Why would you propose if you didn’t even have a ring?"

     "The timing was right?" The Joker giggled weakly, and Batman groaned in a _very_ convincing play of exasperation that may not have been as fake as he'd have liked it to be.  

     Fortunately, the ring shop wasn't that far a drive from there, and Batman had almost never been happier to escape such a tense environment. He'd rarely been in a more uncomfortable one, and coming from him, _that_ was saying something. He almost knocked Stocky out of the way to escape the confines of the car. Once they were both on the curb, the Joker grinned, then winked.

     "Let’s play a trick; I’ll go in first!" Then he bounded forward.

     "Joker, _no!"_ Too late. He was in, and people inside started screaming. He quickly ran in after him. "Joker, you’re a complete idiot," he growled. "If you want good service, you have to act nice."

     "I haven’t even done anything but come inside!" The Joker whined. _"They’re_ the ones not being nice!" Batman glanced around. It was, in a way sort of true. Everyone was crouched down, pressed against the wall, staring with mixed shock and horror at the two of them. Batman shook his head and rubbed the bridge of his nose.

     "Alright, I accede your point. Come on." He grabbed his upper arm, and marched him to the front desk where a man seemed to shrink further down with every step they took. "He’s looking for three rings. Two wedding rings, one engagement ring."

     "For the two of you?" The young man stammered, and the Joker laughed delightedly while Batman scowled deeply.

     "No. _Absolutely_ not. I would _never_ get married to this fool," he shoved the Joker’s shoulder hard enough to make him stagger slightly. "But _he’s_ getting married to someone, and he needs rings."

     "A-alright." The rest of the store cleared out in record time. The man nervously pointed to one wall. "Wedding rings are over there." They plodded over to that side, the man following in a state of dazed terror.

     "What about this one?" Batman pointed out one on the second row, and the Joker made a face.

     "It’s gold. I _hate_ gold. _And_ diamonds."

     "That’s sort of the default, you know," Batman deadpanned. The Joker rolled his eyes at him, letting his head loll with the motion.

     "And what about me says _default?"_  Then the Joker looked into the cases, and his eyes caught onto one ring.

     "Heeyyy," he drawled softly. "That looks like something Harley would wear. It has a few diamonds on it, but she’d probably get mad if there wasn’t at least one." Batman looked at the particular ring, and he agreed. A blackish silver band, with one large ruby in the center, and two heart-shaped ones on either side. The large ruby seemed to have a blackish silver ruffle around it, and there were tiny diamonds sprinkled along it. "It's so _pretty;_  it's a shame it's going to _her_."

     "It’s nice," Batman stated neutrally. He wasn’t about to admit that it was definitely to his taste as well.

     "Can you try it on for a minute? I want to see what it looks like on a finger."

     "I don’t think it’ll fit. I wear a size nine…" Batman began to respond, put aback.

     "I-It’s alright," the man behind the counter said quickly. "It may actually be a little _large_ …" He deftly plucked it out and tossed it into the Joker’s expectant palm like it was just forged. The Joker then turned to him, and Batman sighed, tugging off his glove. The Joker grinned, and took his hand. The soft touch of worn leather wrapped around his hand, before he slowly slid the ring onto his finger. The clown squinted his eyes, then tilted the angle of his hand so the ring caught the light, gleaming softly.

     "That looks nice," the Joker nodded, before turning tail and walking off to the wedding bands. This part was far faster; he didn't even have time to follow after him, because he saw a set he liked almost as soon as he glanced inside the cases.

     "Hey Batsy, I need you to try this on too!" Batman swept his glove up off the counter, and stalked over. It was an interesting wedding band, he had to admit. It was a lighter greyish silver, with Celtic knots and an owl in the center. He slid the ring on above the wedding ring, then held up his hand.

     "The metal shades are different, but they seem fine together," he stated, and the Joker grinned.

     "That it does! I’ll just request them both be in that dark silver. I'd see if there was a bat, but I think Harley really _would_ really kill me then!" Batman slipped them both off, then released them into the Joker’s waiting hands and tugged his glove back on. The Joker grabbed the entire stack of order forms off the counter, and began filling out the ones he needed.

     "Are you needing anything else after this?" Batman inquired, and the Joker shook his head.

     "Nope. Harley said she was dealing with everything else, though I will have to write the invitations myself. Strictly between the two of us, she says I have ‘very pretty calligraphy’." He made a face, and flipped to the next form. "Though, seeing as she’s not apt to let me out of her sight, it’ll give me something to do."

     "Don’t you only need three forms?" He questioned, and the Joker shook his head.

     "Six. Extra copies to keep on hand to prove authenticity upon pick-up. What, have you never done this? Did your wife arrange everything?”

     "I’m not married," Batman grumped. The Joker hummed.

     "I thought that might have been the case," he mused. "After all, what wife wants their husband spending his nights with criminals rather than her? And there's not exactly a Batlady, not for Catwoman's lack of trying." The Joker scowled for a moment, then stood and stretched a little, before hopping up on the counter and filling out the last one. "Having copies of the forms minimizes the fuss involved upon pick-up. Most people are actually concerned about money, can you believe that?" Six forms completed, the Joker folded up and stuffed his half of the copies into his pocket, and handed the others to the man, who separated the empty ones to put back on the counter. He then immediately passed over the entire roll of money, and when the shopkeeper shakily attempted to hand back his change, the Joker waved him off.

     "Nah, you keep it. Use it before a woman can sink her claws into you."

     They walked back out, leaving a shell-shocked shopkeeper clutching several grand in his fist. The moment they stepped foot on concrete, however, the guards swooped in, taking hold of the Joker by both arms and dragging him towards the car, leaving Batman to watch on helplessly. But just before the clown was shoved inside, he managed to resist for a moment, and grinned over his shoulder at him, this time genuinely.

     “See you in two weeks!” The two guards then managed to shove him in, and he was followed by Shorty before the door was shut behind them.

* * *

      The next morning, Bruce groaned and let his head fall to the table with a thunk as he saw the headline of the newspaper.

**BATMAN AND JOKER: ENGAGED?**

     "Is there something you’re not telling me, sir?" Alfred quipped as he read the title over his shoulder, and Bruce entreated him to another groan. _Thump_.


	4. For Worse

     For the next fortnight, Batman tried to come up with something, _anything_ he could do. Arkham wasn’t an option, because it would solve nothing in the long run. Neither was simply locking the Joker up in the Batcave; the clown wouldn’t stand for it for starters, and with his track record, he’d escape within the first six hours. And he was not about to put him in the manor. In the end, the closest thing to a plan he could come up with was to try and disrupt the ceremony, while getting rid of Hatter and removing the threat on that front. But who was to say the entire scenario wouldn’t just play out again? This wasn’t the first time marriage between the two of them had been brought up, after all. Harley was obsessed, and now having finally had a taste of success in this endeavor, it was unlikely at this point she would stop for anything. And when Arkham had a mass breakout five days after the shopping experience and all escapees neglected to do anything at all, he had no illusions as to what that signified.

* * *

     Nine days after the breakout, he and the Joker met up outside the wedding shop as planned. The clown was somehow paler and more depressed than the last time he’d seen him, but had instantly perked up upon spotting him.

     "Heya Bats!" He gave a delighted grin. "Shall we?"

     "May as well," Batman sighed. "It's what we're here for, after all."

     "You're just all gloom and doom, aren’t you," the Joker sniffed. "Don’t rain on my parade, Batsy. I'm just glad to be outside; crazy woman hasn't even let me get near a _window_." There was a different cashier behind the desk, and so upon seeing the two of them, there were similar difficulties as last time with her being too timid to do much. But this time, after a good twenty seconds of her stammering out a single sentence, the Joker finally snapped.

     "Your boss knew we were coming in today; why did they stick a spineless _child_ at the front desk?" The woman cowered, and the Joker glared agitatedly. "As much as I like people fearing me, we actually have things to do," he snarled. "So stop stammering and actually _do your job!"_  He shouted, causing her to flinch. The woman, still trembling, immediately fled to the back room.

     "That was uncalled for," Batman chided. The Joker shrugged.

     "Maybe. But you can't tell me that she wasn't getting on your nerves too." She had been, but he wasn’t about to admit it. "And don't you lecture me about terrifying people; how many criminals soil themselves just seeing a shadow nowadays? Besides, look!" He gestured smugly. "It appears to have gotten the job done." The woman was hurrying back with a large pile of suits. She seemed to have managed to regain some of her composure in the moments away from them.

     "These are all yours," she spoke, her voice wavering slightly but thankfully not stuttering any longer. Batman nodded, while the Joker immediately jumped forward to grab them. She let go as if burned.

     "Nope. Nope. Nope. Nope. A-ha, Gotcha!" He straightened back up, flourishing two similar but different suits. "Here you go Batsy; let's go try them on!" And like a kid in a candy shop, the Joker raced off.

     "Joker." Nearly to his destination, the clown came to a reluctant standstill.

     "Yes?" He turned back slightly. "You want to go first, don't you," He pouted.

     "I was going to say I'd rather not try it on at all," he replied. The Joker crossed his arms.

     "You _do_ realize there's going to be a dress rehearsal, don’t you?" Batman stilled. "And I’m going to see you in it eventually anyway. But," he smirked deviously, "I’ll make a deal with you, Bats. Try it on here, and you won't have to do it at the rehearsal. I have it on good authority that the flea-infested  _Cat_ is going to be there." The Joker finished distastefully, and Batman paused, finding himself actually considering it. He had no doubt in his mind that should he still disagree the Joker would manage to nab the tuxedo right out of his hands, _somehow_. And he had no intentions of being in so little clothing around Catwoman for longer than he absolutely had to be. If there was one thing both he and the clown could agree on, it was that she was displaying herself _quite_ undesirably. Sex and Batman were two things he did not mix under _any_ circumstances. It was just one of those 'Bruce Wayne' things.

     "Alright, deal. But I want to get it out of the way, so I’ll be going first." The Joker slumped, before plopping in that one chair.

     "Fine," he acquiesced, like he was being forced to watch some documentary on puffins.

     Batman swept to the dressing room and proceeded to barricade himself in, and changed as fast as he could. He really did want to get this part over with. The hardest part as always was struggling out of the Batsuit; after that, the rest was smooth sailing. He could put on a suit in his sleep, thanks to his daytime masquerades. He stepped out after a few minutes, and he wasn’t sure if he was relieved or slightly disappointed that the Joker grinned excitedly upon spotting him.

     "Looking dashing, Batsy!" He exclaimed, giving him his two thumbs up of approval. It did fit perfectly. "But your tie’s still crooked. Here, let me-" he made to get up, but was cut off early by Batman quickly holding up a hand.

     "No. I'm about to take this infernal thing off, and you're not about to delay me."

     "You hate formal suits that much?" The Joker whistled as Batman whipped around and closed the door back behind himself.

    _"Yes_ ," Batman growled in reply. It was another 'Bruce Wayne' thing.

     "Such a shame," the Joker sighed again, something that would almost border on wistful if the clown could even feel that. "Because you look wonderful in them." Well, too bad then. Formal clothing like this usually signified the part of his double life on the socialite side, bringing forth uncomfortable memories of galas and lots of bright lights and airheaded greedy people, in which he had to spend long hours pretending to be enjoying himself. He disliked it when the two worlds collided, especially when it meant _suits_. If he could have gotten away with it, he’d have long since burned them all and proceeded to wear workout clothing everywhere; the infernal things were hot and itchy. Women, regardless of the discomfort heels brought, had no _idea_ just how good they had it when it came to the variety of formal wear they had accessible to them. Cold day? They could wear slacks and a blouse, or tights under a sweater dress. Hot day? They could don a strapless sundress. Men got stuck with long-sleeved, three-layered suits in all weather. But no one ever thought about _that_ little detail.

     But comfort aside, wearing a suit while being Batman left him off-balance without the weight of the armor strapped to him, and considerably discomforted. He felt _vulnerable_ , certainly not something he wanted to be around what was debatably one of his greatest enemy. Sure, for now the Joker only seemed to want his company, but he knew better than most how that could change at the drop of a hat.

     When he finally exited the small dressing room, the Joker nearly bowled him over to get inside.

      _"_ _Finally!_  It's like you were _trying_ to take forever! You aren't the only one who wants to get this out of the way, you know!" Like he could have forgotten. Less than a minute later, the door clicked as it was unlocked. And when the Joker came out this time, Batman couldn't help but find his gaze wandering along his form, up his thin arms and down his lean torso and accentuated legs, and then he realized just what he was doing and snapped his eyes back up to the face of the now greatly amused Joker.

      _"_ _That_ good?"

     "She’ll be surprised." The Joker’s smile dropped at the reminder of Harley, but then brushed it aside in favor of other pursuits.

     "I saw you peeking, Batsy!" He grinned widely.

     "Well, it does fit very well." He stated defensively, fighting down another embarrassed flush. He’d never given any thought to the other man’s form at all, given that they were usually at each other’s throats. And of course, his other suits, while they fit him just as well, they were in such garish colors that one simply didn't take notice of what lay underneath in favor of keeping their eyes peeled for danger. He hadn’t realized he was that _thin_. How the hell was the Joker even capable of half the things he got up to?

     In less than another minute the Joker was back in his regular clothes, and not long after they were heading out the door of the god-forsaken store for the last time. Batman momentarily separated to drop his suit in the Batmobile, while the Joker dumped his armful into the boot of his ride carelessly. Then it was back to having another extremely uncomfortable ride, though the Joker had at this point started making faces at the guards.

     Once they got out of the stuffy vehicle outside the ring shop, Batman immediately grabbed the Joker’s elbow before he could do a repeat of the last time. The Joker shot him a disgruntled look, but allowed himself to be frog-marched into the store. The guards, lazy fools they were, settled themselves on the curb.

     The bell chimed, and the couple closest just happened to glance up. The woman's eyes grew, and her mouth gaped like a fish for a few moments. Then she seemed to make up her mind as to what she wanted to do, and screamed, leaping behind her petrified fiancé who looked ready to faint. Naturally, the rest of the customers commenced screaming as well, and the Joker couldn’t resist his laughter, which only exacerbated the issue. Batman dragged him towards the counter, and needless to say, the store emptied even faster than last time the moment the escape route was unblocked.

     "That was also uncalled for," Batman growled, and the Joker smirked.

     "Can you really blame me? That’s the most fun I’ve been able to have in  _weeks_!" They turned their attention to the one behind the counter. Thankfully, the middle-aged woman seemed to be the first person they’d dealt with that wasn’t too terrified to do her job properly.

     "Can I help you?" She questioned somewhat amiably, not even looking overly terrified when the Joker bounded forward.

     "Ah, yes. I was in here two weeks ago. I ordered several rings. Here you go!" He shoved the forms into her hands. She shuffled through them, her eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

     "What? I thought making copies would be a good idea, to prove purchase, seeing as it's _me!_  You got a problem with that?" He growled dangerously. Batman was concerned for a moment that he'd have to step in, but then she nodded and left for the back. Batman turned to the Joker.

     "Whatever happened to the rings from last time?" The clown gave him a tight smile.

     "I threw them in the river; that was when I realized that getting married to Harley was the absolute _last_ thing I wanted. She wasn’t pleased when she heard that, I’ll tell you!"

     "About your opinion on marriage or the rings?"

     "Both really, but especially when she heard about the fate of the rings. Apparently she liked the look of the wedding band. Gold with diamonds of course. Which is yet another reason why I’m not getting that this time. She can latch on to me, she can force me into marriage, she can _control_ me, but she can’t stop the small rebellions like these that she doesn't even know about." He smiled wanly. "If I have to marry someone like _her_ , every small victory counts. I'm going to make her _miserable_." This heralded the return of the woman, carrying two ring boxes. The mood immediately died as she held them out.

     "As you requested on the form," she said blandly, "I separated the two orders of rings into different boxes." The Joker nodded and stuck one ring box into each pocket.

     They exited the store in silence, and seeing the guards immediately stand up, the Joker placed a hand on his forearm. Batman looked his way, and their eyes met, green ones serious for once. If _that_ wasn’t a sign of how much this was tolling on the Joker, he didn’t know what _was_.

     "Practice rehearsal is four days from now, at that old warehouse I used when I planted fake bombs all over Gotham. For some reason, she insists on having _two_ of them," he rolled his eyes. "Be there at six, and while I can understand the urge, _do_ try not to beat the others into a groaning heap." Batman nodded; he knew _exactly_ which warehouse the Joker was referring to. The shorter guard had finally gotten to them.

     "Come on clown," Stocky growled, and grabbed his arm. But with the way he was digging in his heels, it took the combined efforts of both him and the other guard to start dragging him back to the car.

     "I bet you’re just _loving_ getting to manhandle me," he grumbled. "You’re going to die a _very_ excruciating death." Stocky simply smirked and pushed him into the backseat.

* * *

      Up on a rooftop, Batman took note as the car peeled away from the curb, practically burning rubber. This was as good a time as any to find out where they had set up fort, on the very unlikely off-chance they did commit a crime. Or at least, that’s what he told himself. He didn't want to think about the _real_ reason, something that he couldn't even put a finger on beyond the burning in his gut that wanted to punch Harley into a coma for her manipulations. As they crossed Gotham, Batman paid close attention to what the Joker was doing. From what little he could see of him, he was slouched in his seat. The windows were so tinted he couldn’t make out what he was fiddling with in his hands; the only reason he could see him at all through the illegally dark-tinted windows was thanks to his abnormal coloring.

     Eventually, the car went off the main road, and circled behind a decrepit warehouse. Batman’s lips thinned. Of course Harley would have them holed up in the very warehouse they'd have rehearsal in. Besides having several locked rooms, she was acting extremely paranoid this go around, and undoubtedly didn’t want to risk the Joker fleeing. And now that he knew where they were staying, he could-...do absolutely nothing. Something was amiss about the entire situation as it was; he strongly suspected Harley had something on the Joker, something that would turn the tide against him the moment he tried to make a move against her. Why else wouldn't he have already beaten her bloody for doing this to him? He had no illusions that he would refrain from hitting someone who ticked him off just because they were a woman; he'd made that loud and clear in the past. As for what that thing was, he couldn’t be sure, but it had to be bad if the Joker was too worried about it to have brought it up at all.

     So for now, he watched quietly from the roof as the Joker got out of the car and headed towards the warehouse. He observed through the skylight, as the Joker walked inside, and was confronted by Harley. He listened through the broken window panel, and watched as the man fell to one knee, pulling out a box holding a lone, shining ring gleaming blood-red in the dim light.

     "Harley, will you marry me?" She squealed, and ripped the onion ring off her finger, flinging it over her shoulder. So that hadn’t been a joke after all.

     "Yes, Puddin'! I’ll marry you!" The Joker lifted the ring from the box, and with shaky fingers, slid it onto her hand. She squealed again, pulled him up by his lapels, and kissed him deeply. The box slipped from numb fingers to clatter on the broken tile. Batman could see the reluctance in every line of his body, in the way his eyes stayed open, in how his arms hung limply, in how his face was devoid of all emotion. But she seemed not to notice, and upon separating, he quickly affixed a look of bliss on his features just before she opened her eyes.

     "I love you Mistah J!" She cried, and pulled the Joker into a great hug, pinning his arms by his sides. He’d seen enough.

     Batman left, but unbeknownst to him, the Joker had glanced up, just in time to see him whip around and disappear. "I...love you too."


End file.
